The Fire Within

by Dana Marie Bell

  The Shem had chosen to hunt in a diner near a fifty-five-plus community, of all things, feeding off two elderly people who hadn’t had a clue that their last meal would involve undercooked hash browns and soggy waffles with too much syrup. They’d been alerted by one of Damien’s warning systems that two epileptic deaths had occurred right outside the diner in Middletown, and Gabriel had sent them immediately to check it out, ruining Dante’s chance to dance with Elizabeth.

  For that alone the Shem needed to meet a painful, fiery death.

  Unlike his victims, the Shem apparently liked his waffles topped with chocolate chips, because that’s what he’d been eating when they’d found him. He’d taken off running the moment he saw Seth, scaring the piss out of the humans who were in his way. At least he’d had the sense to keep his wings furled. Not even the Shemyaza wanted the humans to figure out what walked among them. Their easy hunting grounds would disappear if humans figured out they were walking, breathing Happy Meals to a bunch of horror movie monsters.

  There. The double flash of Seth’s normally invisible wings meant the Shem had been cornered.

  Angelus like Seth were able to hide from sight, a gift that allowed them to hide from humans while in flight. And the wings of a Neph Angelus, indeed their very souls, seemed to be made of light, making them highly visible when they didn’t choose to hide. Seth’s wings glowed with a blue light that made Dante’s heart ache from their sheer beauty every time he saw them.

  The wings of a Shem Angelus, on the other hand, were made of shadows and fear. Their glow was diminished to a dark, pulsing haze filled with oozing green streaks, making their monstrous appearance seem twice the size of other Shem. Their shadowy wings also helped hide their presence when in flight, masking them against the dark sky.

  Worst of all, their feeding pattern killed their victims quickly, making them difficult to hunt. Unlike the Chameleon that had tried to feed off Abby, Shem Angelus didn’t linger, making their victim suffer over time. Oh, no. They fed off the life force of their victims in one quick attack, swooping down and terrifying the poor human before unleashing their inner darkness. The victim suffered through what looked like a savage series of convulsions. Once drained, the victim lay in a twisted heap, broken by their own body.

  Damien screeched through a yellow light that had Dante white-knuckling the dashboard. “Pull my gun out and get the safety off.”

  Dante did as told, pulling Damien’s registered, specially modified .357 out and flicking off the safety. The bullets were handmade and quenched in holy water, specifically for fighting Shem. “Pull over there.”

  Within seconds they were running for Seth. Dante handed the gun to his brother as they reached the fight.

  The two Angelus were fighting sword to sword, one light, one dark, the Shem’s green miasma leaving slimy, rapidly dissipating contrails in the wake of his movements. His smoky wings obscured Seth for a second, scaring the piss out of Dante.

  Dante pulled his flame around him. His arms ignited, ready to hurl fire at the enemy. His body heated, his Seris nature taking over as Seth reeled back, bleeding, one wing drooping. He’d taken a hit, but he was still standing, still fighting.

  Dante flung his hands out, one after the other, punching the air in rapid-fire movements that sent small balls of flame toward the enemy.

  The Shem dodged, but Dante scored a hit—real smoke rose from its dark wings. The Shem glared at him and snarled. “Seris.”

  “Asshole.” Dante flamed the son of a bitch again, driving it away from his wounded brother.

  The Shem laughed, the sound desperate as Dante scorched him over and over again. “Your woman won’t survive the week.”

  Dante paused, startled, just long enough for the Shem to dart into the air. Only one face came to mind at the Shem’s threat, and it wasn’t his ex-wife.

  “Son of a—” Damien got off a shot or two at the fleeing Angelus, but it was gone, lost in the night. With Seth’s wing wounded, they had no way to chase after it.

  Damien turned on him, his expression furious. “What the hell was that? Why did you let it get away?”

  Dante gritted his teeth. It was a valid question, but the warning about Elizabeth had his flame threatening to burn out of control. “It said my woman.”

  Seth rolled his shoulders, wincing at his wounded wing. “You don’t have a woman.”

  Dante didn’t answer. He couldn’t. Not when...

  How did the Shem know? It couldn’t know. It was an Angelus, not an Oracle able to see the future. Unless...

  Unless it had been hunting them.

  Dante began swearing in Italian.

  Damien grimaced. “Shit. I don’t think it’s working alone.”

  Seth furled his wings, his light diminishing until the only reminder left of them were the two huge wing tattoos emblazoned on his back. He tugged on the shirt he’d stuffed into his back pocket before responding. “Wait. Dante has a girlfriend?”

  “Yup.” Damien grabbed hold of Dante’s arm and dragged him—still swearing—back to the car. “Get in, lover boy. You can fill us in on the way back to Seth’s car.”

  As much as he’d like to continue chasing the Shem who’d threatened Elizabeth, that wasn’t going to happen. “Fine, yeah, I’m going.” Dante grumbled but climbed into the car. Seth piled into the back seat, pulling the blanket Damien always had waiting for him over his shoulders.

  “So.” Seth’s teeth were chattering hard enough that Dante could hear them over the sound of Damien starting the car. “Give. Who’s the girl, and how are we going to protect her?”

  Dante sighed. He just knew his brothers were going to give him shit over this. “Elizabeth Rand.”

  “Abby’s Elizabeth Rand? The P.I.?”

  Dante nodded.

  Seth frowned, obviously confused. “But you hate P.I.s.”

  Dante shrugged. What could he say? He wasn’t exactly fond of the breed, but Elizabeth was different. “She knows what we are, and she’s nothing like the cheating asshole who ran off with my wife.”

  “Do you trust her?” That from Damien, who probably didn’t trust his own mother, but had given that unwavering loyalty instead to the Nephilim.

  Dante nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

  And as soon as he saw her again he’d be telling her about the Shem stink all over their crime scene. Now that he’d accidentally revealed his true nature, the conversation would be much simpler. Hopefully she’d realize she was in over her head and allow him to take the lead.

  “We need to get her under guard, then. Let me know when you need me.”

  Dante smiled. He should have known Seth would be the first one to volunteer. “Get your wing fixed first, then we’ll talk.”

  “I’ll talk to Gabriel. We need to combine the hunt for the Angelus with your murder investigation.” Damien got them moving once more, his expression fierce. “It’s possible your perp is working with ours. We can’t let them get their hands on Beth.”

  The very thought had Dante smoking, literally. “No. No, we cannot.”

  * * *

  “I’ve got something! Give me a call!” The excited sound of Sam’s voice woke Beth out of a sound sleep. She looked at the clock and saw that it was six o’clock in the morning, a full hour before she intended to get up. She rolled over with a groan, her muscles protesting, her arm throbbing viciously. Still half asleep, she rolled out of bed and staggered to the bathroom to find out why her arm hurt so badly.

  “Aw, fuck. I’m gonna kill me a sleaze.”

  In the mirror she could see a purple bruise on her upper arm, right where that drunken ass had grabbed her. Sighing, she brushed her teeth and hair. It wasn’t the first time a man had left a bruise on her, and it wouldn’t be the last. She just preferred to be the one to hand them their balls afterward.

&nb
sp; Dante had taken care of that the night before. She still wasn’t sure how she felt about that.

  She made a quick cup of coffee, grateful once again that she’d gotten that K-Cup coffee maker, then reran the voice message Sam had left. She must have found something pretty good to sound like that, but Beth had no clue what she could have discovered in a day.

  Sam was good, but Beth wasn’t sure even she was that good.

  Beth grabbed a bagel out of the fridge and bit into it cold, chasing it with a shot of coffee. She pushed her glasses into place then reached for the phone. She cradled the receiver against her shoulder and took another sip. God, she hoped it kicked in soon. Dealing with Sam while decaffeinated was never fun.

  “Hello?”

  “It’s Beth. Fair warning, I’m decaffeinated.”

  Sam giggled. “Did I wake you up?”

  Beth grunted and took another bite of bagel. “What have you got?”

  “You’ll never guess what I discovered.” The buzz of energy in Sam’s voice made Beth’s head spin.

  “Proof of Bigfoot?” Beth took another quick sip of coffee and tried to pay attention. She wouldn’t put it past her flaky friend to be a UFO hunter.

  “Jennifer Blake socked away seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars of campaign funds into a bank account in the Cayman Islands over a period of a couple of weeks.”

  Beth choked on a bite of bagel. “What?”

  “She also purchased a house there and a car—a cute little Jeep in candy apple red.”

  Beth slowly set her coffee cup on the countertop. “Jennifer Blake was robbing Blessing’s campaign fund? Are you positive?” Beth was now wide awake. Someone had been a very bad girl. Moving somewhere warmer indeed.

  “Sure looks like it. Oh, and most of that money she stole? It came from Romanov Enterprises. Some kind of a private donation. Very hush-hush. Not sure exactly what Romanov’s connection to all this is, but I’ll do a little more digging. Maybe he thought it would be nice to have the governor of the state in his pocket.”

  “Huh. I wouldn’t put it past him. He’s going to be pissed if he finds out the money he poured into the Blessing campaign was stolen.” Piotr seemed to be all about power and influence. Having a governor in his pocket would only give him more of that.

  On the other hand, he was one of Seth’s best friends, and Andi adored him. Maybe something else was going on, something deeper she couldn’t see yet.

  “Well, that’s not the only weird part. Three days ago, the money was taken out of the Cayman account. I’m still trying to track where it went.”

  Beth frowned. “Did anyone else have signing privileges on the account?”

  “Not that I can find so far, but I’ll keep digging.”

  Beth leaned against the counter and studied her socked feet. Something about this wasn’t right. “Do you have any idea how the money was moved?”

  “Oh, it was definitely some kind of an electronic transfer. It’s just that whoever did it managed to cover his or her tracks very well.” Sam’s tone had shifted, becoming absent. She was more than likely already working on how to solve the problem. “It might take me another day or two to figure out exactly where it went, and if they kept the funds hopping it might take even longer.”

  “Let me know what you find out. Whoever stole that money might have been her partner.”

  “Will do. I’m going to look into Blessing as well. Anything else you need from me?”

  “Dig up what you can on Romanov’s connection to the campaign. I’d be curious to see if he’s anything more than a campaign contributor or if something else is going on.”

  “Got it. TTFN!”

  Beth ended the call and strode back to her bedroom, her thoughts whirling. If Piotr Romanov was involved in this somehow, things were going to get very sticky.

  She threw on a hot pink T-shirt and dark blue jeans, slipped her feet into her black boots, and strode back out into the kitchen. Picking up the phone, she dialed Dante’s number.

  He was not going to like this, not one little bit. She could already tell Dante hated complications, and throwing Piotr Romanov into the mix was one hell of a problem. The billionaire could make the detective’s life a living hell with one phone call.

  “Hello?”

  Beth bit back a groan. Damn, the man sounded sexy as hell first thing in the morning. His deep voice was rough with sleep, sending shivers down her spine. “It’s Beth.”

  “Elizabeth? What’s wrong?”

  It sounded like he’d gone from half asleep to wide awake in seconds. “Calm yourself, big guy. I’ve got some information on the Blake case.”

  There was the sound of rustling and a deep sigh. “I’m on my way.”

  He hung up before she could respond. Beth shrugged and made herself another cup of coffee. He’d get here soon enough.

  Until then, she had just enough time to wake the hell up. She’d need all her wits about her to keep Sam safe. If Dante figured out she’d used somewhat illegal means to discover Piotr’s involvement in the Blake murder, he’d have a fit of epic proportions.

  Maybe she’d better have a third cup of coffee, just to be safe.

  Chapter Seven

  Dante picked Elizabeth up at her apartment and took her to his favorite diner. He needed a caffeine infusion, and he needed it now. Hunting that Shem the night before then waking at six in the morning had him scowling and mean as a bear.

  “Wow, you’re certainly a cheap date.” She laughed as she slid into the booth across from him. She didn’t bother to take off her jacket.

  He grunted. “Food. Coffee. Not in that order.”

  “All right, Dante. Let’s get you fed, then I’ll fill you in. All right?” She picked up her menu and began to meticulously study its contents.

  Dante sighed. “I was out working my other job last night.”

  She didn’t even flinch. The menu remained steady in her hands. “Any luck?”

  “He got away.”

  That got her to lower the menu. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  The Shem’s parting shot rang in his ears once more. Your woman won’t survive the week. He bit back a growl, aware she was safe and sound, at least for the moment.

  And that was the problem, wasn’t it? She was safe, but only when she was with him. Perhaps he should take her to Gabriel’s. If any place on the planet was safe from Shemyaza, it would be the home of the archangel who’d hunted them for centuries.

  The sound of the waitress clearing her throat brought him out of his daze. He looked up, and hid a wince. Shit. Of all the times to see an ex-girlfriend, it had to be now.

  “Hi, Dante,” Tessa said with a smile. “It’s nice to see you again.”

  “It’s nice to see you too.” Dante wondered what fresh hell was coming his way. From the wicked expression on Elizabeth’s face, it was going to be a doozy.

  “What can I get for you?” Dante watched her gaze dart between him and Elizabeth. Her smile lost some of its strength.

  They both ordered the biggest breakfast on the menu.

  Tessa smiled again, the expression hopeful, her gaze warm. “Want to get together one night this week? I’m free Thursday?”

  Shit. Dante had to let her down gently. Tessa was a nice girl and didn’t deserve to be snarled at. In fact, she’d been too nice, too sweet. He needed someone who could meet him head on. He had truly liked Tessa, and her presence had soothed him after his divorce, but the relationship was going to go nowhere. He’d thought she’d understood that, but apparently not. “I’m sorry, but I’m no longer available.”

  “Oh.” The disappointment on her face would have been flattering if Elizabeth wasn’t watching them both with avid curiosity. The waitress pinned on a bright, somewhat sad smile. “Well, I hope you’re b
oth very happy together.”

  “Thank you.” Dante didn’t say another word as Tessa walked away to turn in their order.

  Elizabeth pushed some of her dark hair behind one ear. He found himself watching her, waiting for her reaction.

  It wasn’t long in coming. “You’re taken, huh?”

  He raised an eyebrow, staring at her with all the heat he’d felt as he’d watched her on that dance floor the night before. “Yup.”

  Her cheeks burned brightly before she put the menu back up, blocking his view. Neither of them said another word until the food arrived.

  “You dance very well.” He had to smother a grin when she choked on her bacon. “If you ever want to go with me, let me know.”

  The challenge in her gaze was intoxicating. “If I decide to go dancing with you, you wouldn’t be able to keep up with me.”

  “You are on, tesoro. We’ll go tonight.”

  She raised one dark brow mockingly. “Sure your poor old heart can stand it?”

  His answering smile was slow. He was aware of exactly how predatory he looked as she sat back, her gaze narrowed. “Do you want to try me?”

  She sighed roughly and drank some of her coffee. “What are we going to do about this?”

  “This?”

  “This—” she waved her hand toward him, then back at herself, “—conflict of interest.”

  He leaned forward. “You’re going to tell me whatever it was you learned that woke you up this morning. You and I will go interview Bryan Cranston. I called the office, and he’s in today. Afterward, we do dinner and dancing.”

  “And then?”

  He picked up his mug, stroking the curve of the handle with one finger. “Then we see what comes up next.”

  She looked away, her lips twitching. “You are a bad man.”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  She blew out her breath and finished her bacon. “Fine. Want to know what my informant told me or not?”

  Apparently she was going to ignore his flirting. That was all right. They needed to work, and she hadn’t said no. For Elizabeth, it was damn near a proposal of marriage. He could work with that. “Informant?”